


Cut Clean that Night

by AgentCoop



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Cape Cod, Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gun Violence, M/M, Minor Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 10:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20190808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCoop/pseuds/AgentCoop
Summary: Takes place at the end of Episode 6: What if Ash were taken captive and the gang never made it out of Cape Cod?





	Cut Clean that Night

**Author's Note:**

> ***Features dark themes of violence and non-con. Please don't read if you are uncomfortable!***
> 
> Thanks so much [Myka ](twitter.com/mykafl)for the beta!

The man at his back smells of tobacco with the faint lingering notes of vanilla and Ash hates it. It smells like Max—like the brand of cigarettes he keeps in his pocket—and Ash has spent way too much time near him over the past few days to be able to separate that scent of _safety_ from this man. “Fuck you,” he says, even as the guy is marching him further toward the center of the room with the barrel of his gun at Ash’s neck. 

He’s not going to shoot it yet—Ash is certain of that much. There’s no way Golzine wants him dead. He wants Ash very much alive, but probably has no qualms against his men roughing Ash up. Either way, it’s a shitty choice. Be shot in the back of the head and have no way to save his friends, or be roughed up in front of his fucking father and Jennifer. “I said fuck you,” he repeated, eyes on the man in front of him.

The crack of the gun against his temple is hardly a surprise, but Ash still falls forward, head feeling as though it’s being split in two. There’s wetness against his ear now, trickling down slowly.

He’s torn between being furious at Eiji for giving away his position, and fucking seething that there’s nothing he can do about it.

Okay, he’s also just a little nervous. 

If Eiji and Shorter decide to move from their hiding place, they’re dead. If they decide to rescue Ash, they’re dead. If they decide to do anything at all, they’re dead, and all of it will be Ash’s fault. He bites his lip, frustrated, and angry, and all together way too helpless.

“Kneel, kiddo,” the man behind him says, sarcastic and cutting at the same time.

Ash grunts, but obeys, dropping to his knees with a dull thud of sound. “You have names?” he asks, because fucking Dino didn’t even think he was worth the big guns being sent in—the men he knows by name, knows by kill count. These two goons are so low on the totem pole that Ash has never even met them. _They’re lucky, _he thinks. If it weren’t for Shorter and Eiji coming after him, they’d already be dead.

“Shut up,” one says.

“I just want your names. So I can tell Dino which of his lower-level fuck-ups I murdered, next time I see ‘im.”

They don’t even deign to answer him, just grab his arms from where he’s been holding them at his head, and twist them behind his back, cuffing them together. The metal rubs and his shoulders pull, but he’s been through worse. 

“Ash,” he hears, and this might qualify as worse.

Jim is against the wall, his hand pressed to his shoulder, bright red staining his white shirt and dripping to the floor. Jennifer isn’t far away—she’s on the floor crying, her dress ripped from the shoulder down the front so that her chemise is exposed. 

“You fucking shot him?” Ash asks, trying to keep his breathing steady. “He didn’t do anything to you!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Goon #1 says, smacking him with the butt end of the pistol again. 

It hurts. It hurts, but Ash bites the inside of his cheek trying not to make a sound against it, because Jim is watching him. Jim is…Jim is…. “Fuck,” he lets out. “Fuck, guys, he’s gonna bleed out. Just…just let him go, alright? You came here for me, just—”

“Jesus, kid, you can’t follow directions to save your goddamn life. Here. I’ll make you a deal. Shut up, or I shoot her.” Goon #2 swivels then, pointing his gun directly at Jennifer. She shrieks, and buries her face in her hands, shoulders shuddering, the muffled sound of her crying echoing around them.

Ash gulps, looks pleadingly between them, biting his lip as hard as he can.

“Better.”

“Boss said he just wants him alive. Said we can do whatever we want, as long as he’s delivered alive.” Goon #2 has a distinctly feral look about him as he says this, and Ash swallows around the thickness in his throat. This isn’t going down well. He has a niggling sensation at the back of his mind that’s pitiful and sad and makes him want to scream. He doesn’t want to be rescued. He doesn’t Shorter and Max and Ibe and even Eiji to come bursting through here, but...he needs them. He needs someone to kill these fucking clowns, and get him out of this position because here? On his knees?

Nothing good is about to happen.

“Ash,” Jim groans again, and tries to sit up. A welling of fresh blood blossoms through his fingers. 

“Don’t—” Ash says.

Goon #2 shoots at Jennifer. 

All he can hear for a minute is ringing, and then the screaming starts. He tries to push towards her, but #1 is holding him back, fisting his hands through Ash’s hair and pulling tight.

It doesn’t look like she’s injured. Ash finds the bullet hole in the floor right next to her head. It was a scare tactic, nothing more, but she’s still screaming and sobbing, and Ash doesn’t know what to do.

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” #2 says, swinging back towards Ash. #1 yanks him up by his hair so that he’s forced to meet the angry gaze. “Next time, I shoot her in the head.” #2 continues, “You understand?”

Ash can feel his heart rabbiting in his chest, he can feel the tightness of his breath, but he manages a small nod. His head hurts. It hurts like hell, and there’s still blood dripping from the gash left by the gun. Head wounds bleed a lot, he knows. It’s probably just fine.

A wave of dizziness overtakes him though and he’s suddenly not so sure.

“Hey, you. Up!” he hears, and he watches as #2 backs Jim further up against the wall, until he’s propped up in a semblance of a sitting position, watching Ash. “Show’s about to start.”

This makes the curling unease in Ash’s gut triple in size, winding its way through his nervous system, causing his throat to swell shut, his eyes to flutter in panic between the two men, his palms to start sweating. He stays silent, just watching, because he knows that they’ll do it, that they’ll shoot Jennifer and think nothing of it. They came here for him, and now that they’ve got him. Jim and Jennifer are nothing more than tools to make him comply.

The grip in his hair tightens even more, and Ash is forced up on his knees, high enough that he’s face to face with #2’s obvious erection.

_Fuck this_, he thinks. _Fuck them_. They’re all alike, is the thing. Predators who get off on seeing others hurt. They get off on using him, get off on making him scared, and every fucking time he’s just an easy target. 

_“Don’t feel,” Blanca said. “Stop feeling.”_

_“I’m not.” Ash gripped the gun tighter, raising it in front of his eyes, then shooting at the target—again and again and again. Blanca sighed, but waited until it came back clean—five holes, right to the head. 5 kills. “See?”_

_“It’s in your eyes. It’s in the twitch of your wrist as you raise the gun. The flush of your cheeks.” Blanca scoffed, then replaced the paper, sending it back. “Again.”_

_“I don’t fucking feel anything,” Ash said, spreading his legs again, getting ready to make the shot. Five more rounds. Five more hits. Square on the head of the target. _

_“It’s going to get you killed,” Blanca said, a mournful quality in his voice that was rarely present._

_“Fuck you,” Ash spat. He ripped the headphones off and threw them at Blanca. “We done?”_

_“It’s going to get you killed.”_

“Papa told us that you’re a great lay, kid,” #2 says, moving even closer.

He tries not to, but his eyes flicker towards Jim a moment, as something deep within him unfurls. 

#2 kicks him in the gut and Ash folds in on himself, grunting at the pain. “You can speak now, whore.”

Jim’s eyes are on him, burning into him, and Ash flushes hot under it. “Let them go,” he whispers.”

“Not the question,” #2 laughs. He kicks him again, laughing as Ash gags. “It true? You as good as they say?”

“Better,” Ash bites off, glowering at the man in front of him. He hears the strangled noise that Jim makes, and tries to ignore it as much as he can. _There’s nothing for you here_, he thinks. _It’s fine. Do what they say, they’ll let them go. It’s only you they want, it’s only_—

There’s a yelling outside, and suddenly the door bursts open again, and three more of Dino’s men walk in, pushing Eiji.

_Oh fuck._

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh–_

“On your knees, pretty boy.”

And now Eiji’s in front of him, kneeling with his hands behind his head, cheek swollen and purple, and eyes flickering all around. He looks small, he looks frantic, he looks _scared._

“Where’s Shorter?” Ash asks, ignoring everything else. “Eiji, where’s Shorter?”

Someone laughs, and another shot rings out from just outside the door.

Eiji flinches so hard he brushes against the man at his back, who frowns down at him, and spits, as though Eiji is nothing more than trash. “Dead now,” he says. “This one next?”

“No!” Ash shouts, and then they’re all looking at him again, watching him and eyeing him like he’s their next meal. 

“Oh?” #2 asks. “This one important to you, huh?” He steps away from Ash and over to Eiji, kneeling down in front of him. “You ever suck a cock?” he asks, letting his hand stroke down Eiji’s cheek.

It’s gentle, and soft, and Ash is going to fucking kill him. “Get off of him,” he growls,wrists pulling tight against the cuffs. “Get _off_ of him.”

#2 fists his hand through Eiji’s hair and pulls his head back so far that Eiji can’t catch his breath. He’s trying, panting and gasping, and one hand comes up to grab at #2’s wrist, but it’s nothing, it’s not enough. #2 stands, still holding him by the hair, and unzips.

Ash is frantic now, gun still pressed to his neck, but he can’t think around it, he doesn’t know what to do. “Please,” he finally begs. “Please, don’t.”

“Open.”

Eiji’s got his eyes pinched closed, and he’s straining against it, refusing to look. His cheeks are flushing brilliant red and…

He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be here, this is all Ash’s fault.

“Sir,” Ash tries, tongue tangling on the honorific so it comes out hard and mangled. “Please sir, use me instead.”

Somewhere, Jim is groaning, blood loss overwhelming him. Ash blocks it out. 

It works though. They let go of Eiji, let him slump to the floor, shoulders shaking and quiet sobs wracking his body.

And then #2 steps in front of Ash.

Ash takes a deep breath in, then opens, as wide as he can while #2 grins down at him, pulling out his cock. 

“Just what I was hoping for,” #2 sniggers. “A whore with experience.” The man is mostly hard already, but he reaches down and strokes himself to full, his cock and angry red. He’s an average length—nothing Ash can’t handle, but as soon as the tip of his cock brushes against Ash’s lips, Ash has to close his eyes tight. 

He’s done this before but…

Eiji.

Eiji who still has tears in his eyes. Eiji who’s right in front of him, watching. 

Eiji who used to be innocent.

The gun comes down hard again, against his left eye socket, and everything explodes in pain. There’s a low keening sound, horrible, and pained, that he hears as he blinks—explosions of light tunneling his vision. Then the blood starts—sheeting down into his eye so he can’t see a thing, and he realizes that the sound is him, is coming from _his_ mouth. He presses his lips tight together, trying to pull in enough air through his nose, desperate to stop the awful whine.

It hurts so much. He can’t see straight anymore, everything is blurry. #1 lets go suddenly, and Ash pitches forward, turning his head at the last possible moment so he doesn’t break his nose against the wood floor. His breaths sound awful in his ears, gasping, frenzied things, but he tries to time each one with the thudding of his heart, tries to even them out enough so he can think, so he can—

“Get the fuck up, open your mouth, and keep your fucking eyes open,” #2 is saying, and #1 grabs him again, pulling him upright.

“Ash!” he hears.

It’s Eiji. Eiji is calling for him, and he can’t think because white hot shame lances through him. 

Ash opens his mouth this time and doesn’t close his eyes. Everything is hazy enough that he can no longer make out the features of the man in front of him, and this is a good thing, this allows him to disassociate enough that he almost doesn’t feel that white hot knife of shame stabbing through him as he starts to work his mouth around #2’s cock.

“Fuck,” he hears Jim say, disappointment heavy and rich.

_I’m trying to save your life,_ Ash wants to scream._ I don’t want to do this, I never want to do this, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you_—there are tears running down his face, hot and wet against his skin and that’s really the worst of it. Because now? Now Dino’s goons are laughing. #2 is thrusting in and out of his mouth, joking about what a shitty blow job this is, about how a whore as infamous as Ash Lynx ought to be able to do a better fucking job. #1 is holding him steady, gun still at the curve of his neck, fingers tracing the tears against Ash’s cheeks and then closing around his neck, cutting off his breath so he stutters and gags.

“Fuck that’s good,” he hears #2 say. “Yeah, make him do that again—”

And this is it. He’s back to being a puppet with the strings cut. He’s back to having no control, no autonomy whatsoever. He’s just a living doll, not even here, he’s nothing at all.

_“Don’t feel,_” Blanca had said, over, and over, and over, and Ash just wouldn’t listen because…to not feel? That’s when the worst of it happens. That’s when he hides within himself so far from sunlight that his roots shrivel and die. That’s when he gives up the will to live.

Somewhere near, Eiji is sobbing. 

Somewhere outside, Shorter is dead.

Somewhere far away, Max and Ibe are probably playing a game of cards, irritated by the delay, but enjoying the quiet of the night as the smell of salt whispers in the breeze.

Somewhere, Ash is small again, running through the grass, hair wet with sweat at the back of his neck. He’s smiling, excited because Grif is at home, waiting for him, waiting to play catch, or tag, or anything Ash wants.

Somewhere he is loved.

Here, Goon #2 finishes in his mouth, and Goon #1 shoots Jennifer in the head, and Jim slumps even further, skin paling with every moment. Here Eiji is screaming, his face swollen, skin purple with bruises. Here Eiji is watching as Ash is hauled up and dragged outside. Here, Shorter’s body lays in the dirt drive and Ash is thrown into the trunk of a small black Impala, and the tires squeal as it hits the dirt road. There is no rescue. There is no one coming to save him.

Here, there is only pain, and the bitter but familiar taste of cum on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](twitter.com/agentcoop1)


End file.
